The Death of Knowledge

Brian Dettmer: Book Autopsies

One of the most fun things in analysing any creative work is that one gets to assign meaning to it based on ones own experiences and value system, state of mind, etc.
I always wondered about the Myth of Creation, and at it's heart an uber wise Adam, reciting the names of stars and planets to the hapless Angels who could only bow down to him as asked, and to God's wisdom in favoring this chunk of mud to their fire and light being. The male human, the original, the template, the standard then gets struck by that most human of emotions, loneliness and asks God to grant him a companion, a friend. Depending on whose version you follow at this point we either have Lilith, the first, headstrong female who sort of said no thanks to Adam's set up and wandered off somewhere, or the more traditional and agreed upon story of the lovely Eve, created from a rib and some more mud, who filled Adam's heart and head and of course managed to twist it so far he went along with her forbidden fruit scheme and got them all booted outta heaven.

Asides from the non too subtle mysoginistic overtones of this story, I was always intrigued by the moniker given to this off limits flora "the tree of knowledge". All of which is a fairly roundabout way of saying that this series "Book Autopsies" is one that seems to ask if our obsession with accumulating knowledge, or its exclusivity is a dead notion with the age of the internet making it much more accessible and egalitarian; or if it could just be a reflection of our obsession with dissecting how we know what we know, self-reflexive questioning of source materials and how much faith one should have in them. In any case, the rebellious, destructive impulse that propelled our ancestors to get shifted outta paradise seems to be lurking behind this creative frenzy of ripping up books to reveal their innards, whatever the artist wanted to say about books, knowledge or even medical practices on dead bodies.

"Cat Among the Pigeons"